


Hidden Track

by Wildething



Series: Tabloid Darling [2]
Category: Gravitation
Genre: Drama & Romance, Friends to Lovers, M/M, old story add
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3762496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildething/pseuds/Wildething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending/ sequel for Tabloid Darling. Shuichi struggles to clean up his act, while Suguru seems to have problems of his own once Hiro comes back into the picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 2009 story

“Good Luck Records,” Fujisaki Suguru answered the phone wearily, annoyed that his personal secretary was running late coming back from lunch, and making a mental note to speak with her about her tardiness as soon as she returned.

“Fujisaki-san?” asked a young woman on the other end. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Suguru said, puzzled.

“This is Nakano Ayaka. I was wondering if I might have a word with you about my husband,” she asked, sounding anxious. Suguru felt a mild rush of dread, wondering if she had uncovered some information about his past relationship with the former Bad Luck guitarist and wanted answers.

“Of course. Is there anything the matter?” Suguru asked with what he felt was just the right degree of concern without sounding too personally invested.

“Hiro -- well, he -- he hasn’t quite been himself since his mother died,” Ayaka said. “I mean, he’s still great with Masa-kun and I, but I think he really hates his job. He still has another year of school, and I just hate to see him pushing himself so hard towards something he doesn‘t even want to do. Especially when I know he‘s only doing it for our sake.”

“I see,” Suguru said. “I’m very sorry to hear that he’s unhappy.”

“I knew you would be. You’re his friend, and you love music, too, so I thought you would be able to understand,” Ayaka said.

“I’m trying to,” Suguru said softly, feeling more confused than ever.

“What I’m trying to ask is, Fujisaki-san, will you please consider my husband for a position at your company?” Ayaka asked awkwardly. He could almost picture her bowing humbly as she spoke, and his heart ached for her slightly despite himself.

“Does he know you’re calling me?” Suguru asked, although he knew the answer.

“Oh, no, of course not!” Ayaka said with panic. “He’s very proud, you know he is, he would be so upset with me --

“Nakano-san, please calm down. I won’t tell him anything that you don’t want me to,” Suguru said. “I’ll make it sound like it was entirely mine and Shuichi’s idea.”

“So, you’ll hire him?” Ayaka asked anxiously.

“I’ll make him an offer,” Suguru said. “It will be up to him whether or not he wishes to take me up on it.

“Thank you, Fujisaki-san. You are a kind man,” Ayaka said, almost in a whisper, her voice shaking with emotion.

Suguru felt vaguely ill as he hung up the phone, and went to find Shuichi.

OoOoO

 

Shuichi sat at the mixing table, trying to decide whether to bring Eiji’s guitar part forward, or let the bass line be the driving force of the song, when he saw Suguru out of the corner of his eye and swiveled in his chair to face him.

“Shuichi, you’ve been staying late almost every day. Are you sure you don’t need a break?” Suguru asked with concern. 

“Is that your way of telling me you’re sick of seeing me?” Shuichi asked with a half-smile. Suguru shrugged.

“I just don‘t want you to get burned out. Doesn’t Yuki-san mind that you’re always coming in so late?” Suguru asked.

“Yuki doesn’t mind much of anything as long as you’re quiet and don’t make your existence known,” Shuichi muttered, turning back to the table.

“Still?” Suguru asked. Shuichi nodded, not looking up.

“I thought things were going to get better, but they haven’t,” Shuichi said, frowning. “It’s just as well he’s leaving for his book tour today.”

“Yeah, maybe some distance will help things,” Suguru said, Shuichi all too familiar with his forced optimism.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Shuichi asked, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt, and hoping it wouldn’t inhibit his friend from sharing. Suguru tended to hold things back if you didn’t keep on him, especially if he felt he was being an additional burden, Shuichi had come to realize as he grew closer to him.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s something wrong, exactly,” Suguru began.

“Hey, guys! I went and picked up lunch for us,” Eiji said, walking into the room. “I got you some strawberry Pocky, Shuichi,” he added, looking very pleased with himself.

“Thanks Eiji, that’s so nice of you,” Shuichi said, trying to be patient with his number one fan and current guitarist.

Shuichi was working on his first solo album for Suguru’s label, GL Records, re-recording material from Bad Luck’s unreleased last album, and adding a few new songs that he’d composed recently. He still hadn’t found himself able to write songs with the frequency he once had, but occasionally inspiration struck.

“Yeah, I tried to get his highness Sanda-san to join us, but he won’t leave the studio, as usual,“ Eiji said, rolling his eyes. 

Sanda Madoka was the one-man operation known as Sand that Suguru had signed along with Shuichi when he opened GL a month before. They’d both been a little caught off guard to discover the rich tapestry of unusual sounds that made up Sand’s music had been the work of one person, and were pretty much content to let him do as he pleased with his studio time. He was quiet and strange, but the results of the daily playbacks spoke for themselves of his abilities to work on his own.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Suguru said. “Let’s go to the break room with our lunch. If I catch either of you eating over my mixing tables again, there will be hell to pay.”

“It was a week ago! Let it go already,” Shuichi muttered, following.

OoOoO

 

Shuichi lingered while Suguru locked up, coaxing a reluctant Sanda Madoka out from his cave for another evening as he went.

“You can go home now, Shuichi,” Suguru said with a smile, as he switched off the main power, leaving only the dim glow of the exit signs and a track light in the hallway. 

Shuichi had finally gotten his license, buying himself a small silver moped so as to not be dependant on others for rides back to his and Yuki’s apartment a few blocks away. Yuki didn’t like for him to walk that far at night, but seemed annoyed about picking him up as well, and Shuichi had just given up and found his own solution. Of course, Yuki didn’t much like the moped either, saying it was a noisy eyesore. Shuichi wasn’t sure what the novelist wanted anymore. Lately he’d begun to feel like everything he did was wrong, and where it used to would have made him feel insecure and compromising, these days it just made him angry. Yuki had never been one to deal well with confrontation, and seemed at a loss with what to do with this more aggressive side of Shuichi.

“Yeah, I know, it’s just --” Shuichi began.

“What is it?” Suguru asked, tilting his head curiously.

“Well, I know this sounds weird, but, do you think you could stay over with me tonight? Yuki’s gone,” Shuichi said, staring at his feet.

“Of course,” Suguru said, as if there was nothing unusual about it, making Shuichi feel instantly better. “I need to tell you something anyway.”

One reason Shuichi was afraid to be alone went unmentioned, much to Shuichi’s gratitude. Though he’d begun to see a counselor about his drinking, it was still difficult for him sometimes to resist the urge to numb himself, especially when anything was causing him stress. The woman who was treating him had warned him that he was straddling the threshold of a much more serious dependency problem if he didn’t curb his habits immediately, and it scared him.

It hadn’t been very long ago when Suguru had visited their apartment one weekend to find that Shuichi had been drinking again while Yuki had shut himself away in his study.

“Quit drinking, brat,” Yuki had ordered impatiently, when Suguru had drawn him out of his room despite Shuichi’s protests.

“Go to hell,” Shuichi had muttered, lying on his back across the couch.

“Well, I’ve done my part,” Yuki had said, throwing up his hands and going back to the study. “Don’t let him puke on the couch, or I’ll throw both of your asses out.”

He’d woke an hour later to find Yuki pouring out everything to drink in the apartment, including his own beer, gazing up at him with a helpless look as he stood at the kitchen sink.

He agreed to see the counselor Suguru had been trying to get him to see for weeks the next day.

OoOoO

 

“Ayaka called me today,” Suguru said as they drove. “She wants me to offer Hiro a job because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s unhappy at the pharmacy,” Suguru said.

“Hiro’s coming to work at GL?” Shuichi asked, with mixed emotions. 

It was true that he missed his friend and former band mate, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he still felt somehow betrayed by him. Hiro had left Bad Luck in the middle of recording, while Shuichi was still trying to deal with his first breakup with Yuki, sending Shuichi’s world into a tail spin that he was only now starting to recover from. He knew Hiro’s motivations had been a selfless attempt to see his dying mother’s wishes granted, and that it was awful for him to feel that way, but it was one of the many things Shuichi had avoiding dealing with over the years. They had started to keep in touch a little more regularly, Shuichi attending his mother’s funeral, and helping them watch Masahiko during a hectic move back to Tokyo to live in the house she’d left him, but it was different than the close friendship they’d once had.

It was no small issue with him as well that he’d broken Suguru’s heart when he’d married Ayaka, an event that had effected the young producer’s self-esteem profoundly enough that he’d entered into a hollow, abusive relationship with Ashia Raiden. He wondered sometimes if Suguru weren’t still in love with him, in those moments where his friend grew quiet and wouldn’t tell him what was wrong.

“Well, if he agrees, that is,” Suguru said with a sigh. “The thing is, I really don’t know what to do with him. I offered him as a studio guitarist to Sanda --”

“Yeah, I’ll bet that went over well,” Shuichi interjected.

“And he said there aren’t any guitars in his music and looked at me as if I had completely lost my mind. He also said that suggestions like that were why he’d sent his demo to me instead of Tohma, because he didn’t think I’d interfere with his artistic integrity,” Suguru said, the last words a mocking impression of the reclusive singer’s baritone voice, making Shuichi laugh.

“Ouch,” Shuichi said. “Well, you know, I just thought of something.”

“What?” Suguru asked, as they reached the building and pulled into the driveway.

“How in the heck is Sand supposed to play live with one musician?” Shuichi asked. “I mean, he can’t play everything.”

“You’ve got a point,” Suguru said, already looking weary with the subject. “I don’t feel like dealing with him. Why don’t you bring it up with him tomorrow?”

“Me?” Shuichi asked with horror as he slammed the car door.

“Sure. You own stock in GL, you slacker, pull your weight,” Suguru said with a laugh as they approached the door.

“But I’m scared of him!” Shuichi protested, as Suguru preceded him inside.

OoOoO

 

“So,” Shuichi began, as they settled down in front of the television with a delivered pizza. “Are you going to be able to deal with having Hiro around all the time?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Suguru said dismissively, turning up the television volume with the remote. “Look, it’s Sakuma-san.”

Shuichi stared at the screen, watching the man who had been his idol reluctantly agree to do a song for the late night talk show he was a guest on, after some coaxing from the host.

“I’m not going to do a Nittle Grasper song,” Ryuichi said, greeted by sounds of disappointment from the audience. “Nittle Grasper’s done. So instead I’d like to sing something new I heard not too long ago, that I think you’ll recognize, by a cool little band called Sister Moon.”

The audience cheered as the first beats of the hit duet began. Shuichi felt sick to his stomach, as Ryuichi proceeded to sing both his own part and Hara Aika’s, blending them seamlessly as if it had always been sung by one vocalist.

“Oh, cool, he’s singing your song!” Suguru said cheerfully.

“Yeah, cool,” Shuichi said listlessly. Suguru turned the sound down.

“What’s wrong, Shuichi? I thought you adored Sakuma-san?” Suguru asked. 

Shuichi laid his head back on the couch, regretting he had asked Suguru back with him for a moment, and wondering if Yuki had found the whiskey he’d hidden in the box where he used to keep his old Nittle Grasper memorabilia. 

“Well, he’s pretty good in the sack, but he’s not much for pillow talk the morning after,” Shuichi said acrimoniously, staring at the ceiling.

“You slept with him?” Suguru asked. Shuichi nodded.

“I ran into him at a club a while back. I was at one of my lowest points, I guess. I was really lonely, and felt like such a nobody, and he invited me over to his table and started introducing me to all these people like I was really something special, you know? There were actors I recognized from American movies, and everybody was so pretty and they were nice to me. I was okay with the great Sakuma-san, so I was all right with them. 

And Ryuichi was all over me, ignoring all these big shots like I was the center of the universe, telling anyone who would listen how I was such a great singer, and how he’s sung with me and what great friends we were. I should have known he was just drunk or high or something, that he was just playing a game like he always does with people who have his interest for the moment. I felt so stupid afterwards,” Shuichi said.

“I don’t know who he thinks he is, treating you that way,” Suguru said angrily.

“I don’t even think I’m so much mad at him as I am at myself, really,” Shuichi said with a shrug. “It’s just embarrassing. You know that song I wrote that I hate?”

“You mean the one that’s better than anything he ever did when he went solo?” Suguru asked.

“Whatever,” Shuichi said with a snort. “Well, anyway, that was my pathetically hopeful love song, the one I wrote before he essentially woke up, gave me a pat on the rear and said that was fun, we should do it again sometime.”

“Arrogant jerk,” Suguru grumbled, then sighed, turning towards him. “Shuichi?”

“Yeah?” Shuichi asked, finally meeting his eyes.

“I mean it. About that song. And not just that one, all of the stuff you’ve been working on lately. After this album, Sakuma-san’s going to be the has-been just hoping you’ll invite him to your table,” Suguru said.

“Well, I don’t know about that. He is an international movie star now and all,” Shuichi said with an awkward laugh. “But thank you, Suguru.”

“It hurts, being used,” Suguru said quietly. “I’m sorry that you had to experience that.”

“I’m sorry, too, Suguru,” Shuichi said gently, putting his arm across his shoulders in a one armed hug. Suguru relaxed against him, much to his surprise, and they sat like that for a long moment in near silence as they finished watching the television program, where Ryuichi had made way for the next guest.

Shuichi realized as he reached for the remote, that Suguru had fallen asleep, his head rolling onto Shuichi’s chest with a tiny snore. He looked at him and smiled affectionately. He was still a rather small man, but he’d grown to Shuichi’s height, and his face had slimmed and grown handsome, a contrast to the almost adorably round faced old soul who had joined his band as a sixteen year old kid.

It felt nice, having someone who supported him and wasn’t always tearing him down, he thought, Suguru’s long eyelashes fluttering slightly as he dreamt. He hoped having Hiro back in the picture wouldn’t be a strain on him, as he gently shook him awake.


	2. Chapter 2

Shuichi approached the studio across the hall nervously, wondering if he should knock. Telling himself that he was being ridiculous, he took a deep breath and opened the door, slipping inside quietly so as to not be a disturbance. The room was so dark he could barely see after the brightness of the hallway, and the thick cigarette smoke in the air did little to aid his vision.

As his eyes finally adjusted, he made out the figure of Sanda Madoka sitting in a leather chair with an odd instrument in his lap, peering up at him with eerily pale blue eyes that almost seemed to glow.

“Um, uh, hi Sanda-san,” Shuichi managed under the unsettling scrutiny.

“You ever seen one of these?” Sanda asked in his cool, deep voice, gesturing at the stringed instrument. Shuichi shook his head, staring at what looked like a guitar with two extra sets of strings.

“It’s a harp guitar,” Sanda said. “Real old, this girl. Had her fixed up for me by this guy I met out in France who was always fiddling around with unusual instruments.” Sanda plucked the top set of bass strings, and sat it aside with a grin.

“That’s really cool,” Shuichi said, looking around, where he saw several other strange instruments he was at a loss to identify. He leaned gracelessly against an odd structure that looked like a small cabinet with a looped wire coming out of its side.

“That’s a Theremin,” Sanda said. Shuichi pulled away from it slightly, having thought it was just a particularly ugly piece of furniture rather than another of Sanda’s odd treasures. Sanda stood, walking over to it and flicking a switch, making the little cabinet buzz with electricity.

“Put your hand here,” Sanda instructed, taking Shuichi’s wrist and placing it near the wire. A weird, high pitched tone filled the air. “It’s an electrostatic field. Your movements control the pitch.”

Shuichi laughed, fascinated as his hand movements altered the peculiar sounds, which sounded like something from the soundtrack of an old horror film.

“So, you’re that kid that was in that pop band,” Sanda said, scratching at the stubble on his chin and studying him.

“Shindou Shuichi, formerly of Bad Luck,” Shuichi said, offering his hand. Sanda shook his hand and nodded.

“Yeah, I remember now. You’ve got nice pipes,” Sanda said.

“Um, thanks,” Shuichi said. “You wouldn’t happen to remember our guitar player would you? Nakano Hiroshi?” Sanda tipped his head back, as if trying to place him.

“No,” Sanda said at last.

“Um, well, I was actually coming here to ask you something. You see, Hiroshi’s a really talented musician. I mean, I’ve seen him play piano, too, and his mom used to make him take violin lessons when we were twelve, and I -- well, are you sure you don’t need any help around here? Because I was just thinking, how are you going to play live if you’re by yourself?” Shuichi blurted out breathlessly and waited. Sanda fixed his eyes on him curiously.

“You’re cute,” Sanda said, making Shuichi blush.

“Well, thanks, but what I was wanting to know was --” Shuichi started.

“Alright,” Sanda said.

“Really?” Shuichi asked.

“Sure kid,” Sanda said with an amused half-smile. “Send him in, and I’ll find him something to do.”

OoOoO

 

“That Sanda guy is a freak,” Shuichi said, shaking his head. “A sort of nice freak, I guess, but he’s still weird. I’m not sure we’ll exactly be doing Hiro a favor.” Suguru shrugged.

“Ayaka wanted me to offer him a job. She wasn’t very specific,” Suguru said. “My secretary is always late. I wonder if Hiroshi can type?”

“Now that’s just mean,” Shuichi said, trying not to laugh, as he and Suguru walked into the darkened apartment. “What did you tell him he’d be doing anyway?”

“I told him he’d be working in the studio with one of our artists -- so, essentially, the truth,” Suguru said. “It was still a hard sell though. He’s so stubborn! I think I managed to surpass his suspicions that I was the one doing the favor eventually, though, because he agreed to give it a try.”

“Still, it is nice of you, considering,” Shuichi said.

“The light’s blinking on your answering machine,” Suguru said, sidestepping the subject. Shuichi pushed the play button, expecting the usual message from Tohma or Mika for Yuki.

“Call me when you get home, Shuichi,” Yuki said shortly and hung up.

“I’ll just be a minute. You can start without me,” Shuichi said, setting the takeout food they’d gotten on the way home on the coffee table.

“Yuki?” Shuichi asked, when there was no immediate answer, walking into the bedroom and sitting on the bed.

“Hey,” Yuki said, sounding strange.

“Did I wake you?” Shuichi asked.

“No -- No, I haven’t been sleeping very well,” Yuki said.

“What’s wrong?” Shuichi asked, drawing his legs up underneath him.

“Look, I’ve been thinking,” Yuki said, and sighed. “This isn’t working. You know it as well as I do. We‘re making each other miserable.” Shuichi felt a cold chill come over him.

“It’s only been a couple of months, Yuki. I told you this wasn’t going to be easy, but --” Shuichi started.

“Listen to me, brat, don‘t make this any harder than it has to be,” Yuki snapped irritably. “I want you out of there before I come back, okay?”

Shuichi sat in stunned silence, his head spinning with disbelief.

“Okay?” Yuki repeated.

“Okay,” Shuichi parroted numbly, then added quietly, “But I want you to know, this is the last time, Yuki. Do you understand that? I can’t take this anymore.”

“Good bye, Shuichi,” Yuki said in a tight, strangled voice, and hung up the phone.

Shuichi dropped the cell phone from his ear and just sat there, his stomach churning.

 

“Shuichi?” Suguru asked, knocking at the bedroom door. Shuichi wasn’t sure how long he had sat there before his friend came to check on him. “Is everything all right?”

Suguru walked into the room when he received no answer, looking at his blank expression with concern.

“Yuki,” Shuichi said, giving him a dazed glance. “Yuki just told me to get out before he comes back.”

“What?” Suguru asked in shock, crossing the room and sitting beside him. “He said that?”

“I knew things were kind of rough right now, but I wasn’t expecting him to give up so easily,” Shuichi said. “At least not this time, not after all we’ve been through.”

“Did he say why?” Suguru asked. Shuichi shook his head.

“He said we were making each other miserable,” Shuichi said. “I guess he’s right, in a way, but I thought he understood that we needed some time to adjust.”

“Do you want some time off from the studio?” Suguru asked.

“No,” Shuichi said. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asked. 

“Yeah,” Shuichi said softly. “It’s not like it used to be. I should have never let myself get so focused on him for inspiration, not when I was writing music just fine before I ever met him.”

“Well, I’ll admit, that wasn’t a very good survival instinct,” Suguru said darkly. “Not with love being as fickle as it apparently seems to be.”

“I’m pretty sure he still loves me,” Shuichi said sadly. “I guess he just doesn’t love me enough.”

“But you’re trying so hard to change,” Suguru said. “It isn’t fair for him to give up on what you have. I’d give anything --” Suguru trailed off and looked away.

“But I can’t change back. Not entirely,” Shuichi said. “I’m not even sure I want to. Not even for Yuki. Of course I need to work on my -- well, my urges to do things that I shouldn’t, but it’s not like the way I used to deal with things was all that great either.”

“Well, I think you’ve made some really great changes, too, of course,” Suguru said, cautiously taking his hand. “For one thing, I’m proud of how well you’re handling this.”

“Maybe I just saw it coming,” Shuichi said with a sigh. “But thank you, that means a lot to me.”

“You can stay with me until you find your own place,” Suguru said. Shuichi nodded, giving Suguru‘s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I just worry about him,” Shuichi said. “He’s so fragile.”

“You can’t help someone if they won’t let you,” Suguru said.

“He never let me, not without a fight,” Shuichi said with a joyless laugh. “Maybe that’s what’s changed. I’m just tired of fighting. Maybe I’m just not stubborn enough anymore.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Suguru said teasingly.

“Maybe you should talk to him. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, after all,” Shuichi shot back.

“If you don’t think you’re still a fighter, then you have no insight, Shuichi,” Suguru said, shaking his head.

“I just don’t want for everything to have to be a struggle though, you know?” Shuichi asked softly. “I just want something in my life that can be -- I don’t know -- nice? Stable?”

“Don’t we all?” Suguru asked with a shrug.

“Maybe I ought to just find a nice girl, like Hiro did,” Shuichi said with a hollow laugh, falling silent instantly when he saw Suguru’s expression darken.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t a very tactful thing to say,” Shuichi said quietly. Suguru looked up, like he’d been brought out of deep thought.

“What? Oh, that’s okay,” Suguru said, offering a smile.

“Not even one drink?” Shuichi asked after a moment’s silence, pulling his hand from Suguru’s, and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt. Suguru shook his head, gently brushing away one of Shuichi’s tears with his thumb.

“It won’t help,” Suguru said. “I don’t know what will, but I do know that much.” Shuichi sighed heavily.

“I’ve lost my appetite. I think I’ll just turn in now,” Shuichi said. Suguru nodded.

“I’m not too hungry myself now, really,” Suguru said, sitting up and sliding off of the bed, looking as tired as Shuichi felt. “I’ll just put the food in the fridge for tomorrow then.”

“Hey, Suguru?” Shuichi called as Suguru reached the door.

“Yes?” Suguru asked. Shuichi pulled the covers over him.

“Sleep with me?” Shuichi asked in a small voice, his pink hair just visible above the bedspread. When he was greeted with silence, he peeked over it to find Suguru staring at him, gaping.

“No, no, that didn’t come out the way I meant it -- I --” Shuichi began, sitting up and waving his hands. 

“Um, sure. I’ll be right back,” Suguru said, his expression unreadable.

Shuichi’s head swam as he laid back, trying to fight the urge to scream with frustration. The bed smelled like Yuki. His mind seemed to cycle madly through feelings of love, anger, pity, and even the slightest ugly stab of hatred when he thought of the man, and it made him feel ill. He wanted to replace this confusion and pain with something else. He would try to sleep. It was the only option for now, he thought, biting his lip against more tears.

“Shuichi?” Suguru said softly, as though he were hoping his friend had already fallen into slumber. He hadn’t heard him come back into the room, and turned to face him, his eyes pleading. 

Suguru slid into the bed with a heavy sigh, and allowed Shuichi to burrow against him before cautiously placing an arm around him.

“Thank you,” Shuichi murmured sleepily, feeling Suguru finally relax and resume breathing normally.

“I hope you’re not expecting a bedtime story,” Suguru said, his breath tickling the top of Shuichi’s head. “The only one I can remember right now is one cousin Mika told me when she and Tohma were keeping me one weekend when I was a kid. It was some Chinese ghost story that scared the piss out of me. I didn’t sleep for a week.”

“No, but you could have at least brought me some warm milk,” Shuichi said with a giggle. 

“Good night, Shuichi,” Suguru said, reaching back to turn off the light.

OoOoO

 

Shuichi’s brow furrowed in concentration, Pocky stick dangling from his firmly set jaw, as he fiddled with sound loops on Suguru’s sacred instrument, the one synthesizer in the building that no one was allowed to mess with under stern penalty of -- well, Shuichi wasn’t sure. But Suguru was in a meeting, and if he could he could just get this one thing out of his head and into reality…

He seemed to be moving backwards, he thought distantly, as his fingers scrabbled for keys that were no longer in reach.

“Okay, that’s it,” Suguru said, pulling him, chair and all, across the room. Shuichi watched his work grow smaller with a whimper, hands still stretched uselessly before him. “You’ve gotten worse than Sanda-san. And don’t deny you’ve been eating in here rather than stop for a break. I’ve got witnesses. Witnesses that may or may not have brought you said snacks. ”

Shuichi saw Eiji mouthing an apology at him behind his hand, with one terrified eye still fixed on Suguru as he was pulled past him. ‘Traitor’, Shuichi mouthed back with a pout.

“So, I’m here for your intervention. Hiro’s been here a week, and he hasn’t even seen you but once,” Suguru said, spinning the chair around and rolling him into the hallway.

“So your solution to me being in the studio too much is to wheel me into another studio?” Shuichi asked skeptically. Suguru sniffed indignantly.

“Well, at least you won’t be working yourself blind in there. I doubt Sanda-san will even let you touch anything,” Suguru said, kicking open the studio across the hall, and startling both Hiro and Sanda, who blinked blearily at the light being let in from the hall into the smoky room.

“Which reminds me, don’t think you’re getting off the hook about touching Benzaiten just because I’m in a generous mood right now,” Suguru whispered sweetly into his ear, before rolling Shuichi into the studio and closing the door behind him. Hiro gave a low whistle.

“You touched Benzaiten didn’t you?” Hiro asked, with a look somewhere between amusement and admiration.

“How did you know?” Shuichi asked.

“Let’s just say the couch in Suguru’s old place had this spring that dug in right about here. It took about a week for him to come around,” Hiro said with a grin, reaching back to pat his lower back.

“I see,” Shuichi said tightly, not particularly wanting a reminder of one of the reasons he wasn’t happy with Hiro right off the bat. Especially not after several days ago, when he’d fallen asleep in his friend’s arms on that first difficult night after leaving his and Yuki‘s apartment for good.

Suguru had stirred, and talked in his sleep that night, waking Shuichi with a soft murmur.

“I’m so glad you’ve come back to me,” he’d said, a look of contentment coming over his usually tense and guarded features. Shuichi was pretty certain he wasn’t dreaming about Ashia Raiden.

“Well, since you’re here, do you want to hear what he’s working on?” Hiro said, seeming not to notice Shuichi‘s discomfort, and nodding over towards Sanda, who hadn’t looked up but once since the door opened.

“I guess,” Shuichi said with a shrug. “What exactly have you been doing then?” Hiro coughed and shrugged.

“Um, well, I’m learning to play the saw,” Hiro said. Shuichi raised an eyebrow as he followed Hiro’s eyes to the large, flexible blade on the table.

“You’ve been doing his landscaping?” Shuichi asked uncertainly.

“No, silly, watch,” Hiro picked up the saw, securing the handle between his legs, and holding the other end. He grabbed a what looked like a violin bow from beside him and placed it to the edge of the blade. A strange, wavering sound sang from it as he drew the bow across, bending the metal to change the pitch. Shuichi had just begun to think he recognized the tune when Hiro stopped, grinning self-consciously.

“I’m not very good at it yet,” Hiro explained. Shuichi wasn’t quite sure what to say. They’d given Sanda one of the best guitar players in Japan, and he was training him to play hardware tools?

“No, that sounded, um, interesting,” Shuichi said.

“Hey, you cats can split for a while, if you want,” Sanda said, his strange blue eyes regarding them suddenly. Hiro smiled.

“You just want me to get you some coffee from that shop I brought you some from the other day, don’t you, asshole?” Hiro asked. Sanda grinned, giving him a thumbs up.

“I like a man who can call my bullshit,” Sanda said. 

“Come on, then. From what Suguru’s been telling me, you haven’t had any fresh air or sunshine in a while anyway,” Hiro said.

“You guys seem to have hit it off,” Shuichi said, as they waved at the receptionist on their way to the front door.

“Yeah, we really have,” Hiro said. “Coolest boss, ever, really. We both just do our own thing, and he asks my opinion on something every now and then, and that’s it.”

“That’s great,” Shuichi said. “So how are Ayaka and Masa-chan?”

“They’re good,” Hiro said with a smile. “Yuuzi slept on our couch for about a week, and she wasn’t too happy about that, but everything’s cool, now.”

“Poor Yuuzi,” Shuichi said, shaking his head. 

“Poor Yuuzi, my ass,” Hiro snorted. “He’s practically made vagrancy into some sort of profession. He has a blast mooching off people he meets and traveling around, while I got to do the dirty work and make everyone happy.”

Shuichi looked at Hiro in silence for a moment, surprised at how bitter he sounded. He bit back the retort that he’d hardly made everyone happy, when he saw the frown on Hiro’s face.

“Worked out in the long run though, you know?” Hiro said, his easy smile returning. “Ayaka and I -- well, we work together. And we sure made a good looking kid, didn’t we?”

“Sure did,” Shuichi said. Hiro nervously pulled out his cigarettes, and placed one to his lips, lighting it and inhaling deeply before looking at Shuichi.

“Look, I’m sorry I screwed you over, okay?” Hiro said. “Believe me when I say it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I did have to do it. You -- you didn’t see how broken she was when they told her it was cancer. Dad was already gone, and Yuuzi and I had let her down so much. She had nothing left to hold on for, and I just didn’t want that to be the way she left.”

“I’m sorry, Hiro,” Shuichi said, hugging him, his eyes welling with tears. “You had already put me first all that time, because -- and then I turned my back on you. I’ve been a really lousy friend, haven’t I?”

“The lousiest,” Hiro said, laughing through his own tears, and hugging him back tightly. 

“I -- I actually thought about coming back, you know, about leaving her, after I heard that you had given up music. I was really worried about you, and you never would answer my calls,” Hiro said.

“Oh, no, Hiro --” Shuichi said. Hiro waved his hand dismissively.

“I didn’t though, obviously. It was actually Suguru that talked some sense into me when I started calling around trying to find out about you,” Hiro said.

“Suguru?” Shuichi asked with surprise. Hiro nodded.

“I know. Funny, huh?” Hiro said with a sad smile as they reached the outside of the coffee house.

Inside, the girl at the counter’s eyes grew large as they approached to order.

“I can’t believe it!” she said excitedly, addressing Shuichi. “I thought when I saw him in here the other day that he was that guy who played guitar from Bad Luck, but now I know it’s him if he’s with you!”

After signing several autographs for the staff and patrons, and promising to bring back a signed photo for them to frame on the wall, they stepped out onto the sidewalk with their coffee. Shuichi laughed.

“That hasn’t happened in a while,” Shuichi said.

“Well, you’re still Shindou Shuichi,” Hiro said, smiling warmly. “And I’m still that guy who played guitar!”

“That’s right!” Shuichi cried, nearly dropping the tray of coffee he held.

They returned to the lobby of GL, laughing like they’d never been apart, and it felt wonderful.

“I can’t believe you got a moped,” Hiro said, shaking his head.

“Hey, I have to get around somehow, you jerk,” Shuichi said, punching him in the arm. He looked up to see Suguru at the front desk, regarding them with an enigmatic glance from where he was in a discussion with the receptionist.

“Hey, Suguru. I got you a cappuccino,” Shuichi said upon seeing him.

“Oh, hey. Thanks,” Suguru said as he crossed the room to hand it to him, giving a polite smile before returning his attention to whatever it was he was doing before. Shuichi turned away, feeling strangely rejected, and fell back into step with Hiro. He looked back before they turned the corner, and caught Suguru looking after them before quickly looking away again.

“Do you think he’s still mad about Benzaiten?” Shuichi asked as they reached the studio. Hiro shrugged.

“It’d take someone with psychic powers to read Suguru sometimes,” Hiro said with a sigh, opening the door.

“Hey bro,” Sanda said, eagerly taking his coffee and turning back to the mixing table. They sat and talked idly between themselves for a while, before Sanda slowly lowered his cup and regarded them again.

“So, Shindou,” Sanda said, placing the cup aside and rubbing his hands together. “Think you might be able to lend me those pipes?” Shuichi regarded him with surprise.

“Do what now?” Shuichi asked, looking from Sanda to Hiro, who was smiling.

“Hiroshi here and I were just discussing the other day how you might could lend a little magic divine to an old dreary tune,” Sanda said with a toothy grin.

“Really?” Shuichi asked. “That sounds great. What’s the song like?”

“Lemme see here,” Sanda muttered, rummaging through a haphazard stack of papers, before pulling out a battered sheet and handing it to him.

“Um,” Shuichi said, scanning over the unfamiliar writing with a nervous laugh. “I can’t exactly read this. I mean, I know a few words --”

“Shuichi sucked at school,” Hiro said with amusement, earning himself a glare.

“Oh, right,” Sanda said, scratching his chin. “It’s in English. Think you can handle that alright? We can practice the phonetics,” Sanda said.

“I guess so. What does it mean?” Shuichi asked. 

“Oh yeah,” Sanda said, digging some more before handing him another sheet. “I wrote out a translation for you. May as well let you hear it while we’re at it.”

A slow, jazzy tune with low tuned cellos playing in a detached but mournful way came in from the speakers, Sanda’s recorded vocals deep and tender as they faded in.

Shuichi began to read, feeling a strange clenching in his stomach as he took in verses that eloquently painted a story of loss and longing. He felt Hiro tense slightly behind him as he read over his shoulder, hardly noticing as he began to mentally place the words to song. 

“This -- this is beautiful,” Shuichi said, overcome. “Sad, but beautiful.”

“Glad you dig it, baby,” Sanda said, looking pleased. “I think your dulcet poetry might uplift mine considerably, if you’re willing.”

“I’d be honored,” Shuichi said quietly.

“You’ve made my day, songbird,” Sanda said, his gravelly voice warm.

“Please -- if you don’t mind me asking, that is -- who did you write this for?” Shuichi asked. Sanda gave a sad smile, sitting back in his chair with a wistful look.

“She was a waitress. Saw her through a café window while I was changing trains. She just stood there, wiping off the counter and looking like she were waiting for something good to happen for the first time in her life. Most beautiful woman I‘ve ever seen,” Sanda said. Shuichi shook his head.

“You wrote this for a woman you never met?” Shuichi asked. “Why didn’t you go in and talk to her?”

“More beautiful that way,” Sanda said with a shrug. “Sometimes getting what you want, isn’t getting what you want at all.”

The three men were silent for a long moment, Shuichi noticing Hiro looking pale as he tried to nonchalantly switch off the music and organize Sanda’s sheet music.

“Guess we all got that waitress in one way or another,” Sanda said, shaking his head and turning back to his work.


	3. Chapter 3

Shuichi returned to his own studio, to find Suguru, Eiji, and a man he didn’t recognize bent over the mixing table.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” Shuichi asked.

“Fujisaki-san’s been letting me try my hand at producing,” Eiji said, beaming. “Come listen.”

Shuichi distractedly tried to take in what Eiji was playing for him, but found his focus drawn by Suguru and the stranger talking in hushed tones.

Suguru looked up at last, smiling at him.

“Eiji’s a natural, don’t you think?” Suguru asked.

“Yeah, absolutely!” Shuichi said with forced enthusiasm under Eiji’s expectant scrutiny, making the guitarist look as if he might pass out.

“Fujisaki-san thinks I’m good enough to help you finish the album,” Eiji said, swaying dazedly, before clutching at the table. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Shuichi looked at Suguru questioningly as Eiji rushed from the room.

“Excitable guy, isn’t he?” the other man asked with a laugh.

“Shuichi, this is Eto Izanagi. I’m adding him to the GL roster,” Suguru said. Shuichi studied the tall, wiry man, with shaggy, shoulder length hair lightened to a soft brown, and black framed glasses.

“Very nice to meet you, Shindou-san,” Eto said with a slight bow. “I’m afraid I don’t listen to much pop music, but I know you by reputation.” Shuichi looked at him a bit warily, trying to sense any sarcasm from this statement, but found the wide brown eyes that looked up to meet his at least seemed sincere.

“Yeah, you, too,” Shuichi said, feeling impatient. “Suguru, can I speak to you alone for a sec?” Suguru followed him out into the hallway.

“What do you mean you’re letting Eiji finish producing the album?” Shuichi asked. “Are you really that mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” Suguru asked, looking confused for a moment before rolling his eyes. “You’ve been listening to Hiro haven’t you?”

“Well, he said you were really pissed when you caught him messing with Benzaiten, so I thought --” Shuichi started.

“Oh, please. You want to know why I was really pissed off at him that time? He bought me something on your birthday, and honestly didn’t seem to think it was such a big deal. Touching Benzaiten was just the final straw,” Suguru said. “Anyway, what makes you think I’m punishing you? Eiji is perfectly competent, and all the songs are already recorded, so he’ll just be your assistant in polishing off the final product, really. I need to help Eto-san get set up.”

“But you’re my producer,” Shuichi said, feeling a bit silly in light of Suguru’s perfect logic. Suguru gave him a strange look, appearing completely caught off guard. Eiji strolled over to them before he had a chance to speak, throwing an arm around Shuichi and leading him back to the studio, talking animatedly.

OoOoO

 

“Hey, guys,” Shuichi said, plopping down onto a beanbag chair in the corner of Sanda’s studio, beside a sitar with only five strings. Or at least, Shuichi thought, he assumed it was a sitar.

“Hey,” Hiro greeted him distractedly, wearing a large set of earphones at the mixing table. Shuichi drummed on his knees, looking around the room boredly and waiting for either man to pause in his work long enough to talk to him. Finally, Sanda wheeled around in his chair, regarding him curiously.

“Hello, again, little songbird, how’s you’re album coming?” Sanda asked.

“Well, unless we run into any glitches along the way with the last two songs tomorrow, we’re nearly done,” Shuichi said, shaking his head as though he could hardly believe it. Sanda nodded.

“I see,” Sanda said. “Well, I’ll try not to keep Hiro too much longer.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Shuichi assured him. “Really, I’m in no hurry.”

Shuichi thought he caught a glimpse of pity in the older man’s face, as he turned away, which only made him feel worse. 

Even living in the same apartment with Suguru, they’d only seen each other in passing for most of the past two weeks, as Eto’s recording schedule started and ended a bit later than the times Shuichi and Eiji were usually in the studio. It felt strange returning alone every afternoon, and he’d taken to hanging out with Sanda and Hiro after Eiji left in order to postpone the silent evenings that had become the norm. He’d finished recording the backing vocals for Sand’s first single, which had initially been his excuse to linger, but now he supposed it was all too obvious that he was just lonely.

Shuichi had occupied himself with one of his notebooks, scribbling words to a song he’d been composing in his mind for about a week, when he glanced up to see Hiro putting his headphones aside and giving Sanda a nod.

“Hey, Shuichi, Ayaka and Masa are visiting her mother, so why don’t we go out for a drink or something?” Hiro offered. 

“That sounds great,” Shuichi said, pushing back the sting of shame he felt, no small part of it being in that he had no intention of telling Hiro that he wasn’t supposed to be drinking.

As Shuichi opened the door to exit the studio, he was surprised to see Suguru facing him.

“I thought you might be in here,” Suguru said with a smile. “We finished early tonight. Do you want to ride back with me? I think it’s starting to rain.” Shuichi felt torn, his stomach churning as he looked at his trusting friend.

“Hey, Suguru, Shuichi and I were just going to head out. Do you want to come with us?” Hiro asked, stepping out behind him while pulling on his leather jacket. Suguru’s smile wavered slightly, before brightening.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Suguru said. “I’m sure you guys have loads to catch up on, and I’m pretty tired.”

“Be careful,” Shuichi said awkwardly as Hiro led him away.

“Have fun,” Suguru called out behind them, his voice echoing slightly in the empty lobby.

“Hey, don’t look so down,” Hiro said, punching him lightly on the arm as they hunched their shoulders against the light drizzle of rain that had begun to fall. “I’m starting to wonder if you even wanted to come.”

“Of course I do,” Shuichi said, trying to shake off the guilt with a smile.

“If you’re feeling bad about leaving Suguru, trust me, he’s happier at home with a cup of tea than he is going out. You know how uptight he can get,” Hiro said.

“If you say so,” Shuichi said with a shrug, as they neared the sensible sedan Hiro had traded his bike for since starting a family.

They were soon at one of the Roppongi night spots Shuichi suggested, having not quite worked up the nerve to suggest one of his favored clubs at Shinjuku Ni-Chome. Hiro shook his head, looking at the eager crowds lined up to get in at the clubs they passed.

“So I take it I’m going to get a taste of what I’ve read about you in the gossip magazines,” Hiro said.

“I haven’t been on the dance floor in ages,” Shuichi said, leaning to look out the window excitedly. “I think the last time was with Suguru.”

“Suguru -- Fujisaki Suguru -- went clubbing with you?” Hiro asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, but we went to the gay clubs,” Shuichi said, with a triumphant smirk at Hiro’s completely nonplussed reaction. “Guess you don’t know everything about him, huh?”

OoOoO

 

Shuichi smiled at a girl with brown plaits high on her head who had approached him to dance while he moved to the music alone at the edge of the floor. Hiro had opted to watch, and he glanced back at him with a little wave, as the girl took his hand and lead him further in among the press of bodies gathered around the deejay booth.

“Aren’t you in a band?” the girl yelled in his ear, after he’d failed to understand her the first time. Shuichi shook his head.

Shuichi caught sight of their table near the end of the song, his eyes widening as he saw Sakuma Ryuichi standing beside Hiro, who was pointing him out on the floor.

“Excuse me,” Shuichi told the girl, who may or may nor have heard him, and elbowed his way through the other dancers, making for the other side of the club.

Shuichi went out of a side exit, watching the rain from under an awning over the doorway of the rail lined terrace for a few minutes, and feeling satisfied that he had eluded him, when he heard the door open behind him.

“Ha ha! Caught you!” Ryuichi called with a giggle, tackling him from behind. “You know you’re no match for Kumagoro’s mad hide-and-seeking skills!” 

Shuichi shrugged him off and turned to face him, fully prepared to unleash his anger and frustration upon him, but looking at his guileless expression, he just gave a resigned sigh.

“Hey, Sakuma-san,” Shuichi said. “What brings you to Tokyo?”

“Things are shiny happy here right now. And I got bored,” Ryuichi said, eyeing Shuichi up and down. “I hear you’re making music again.”

“You heard right,” Shuichi said, unable to suppress a smile at the fact. Ryuichi stepped closer, Shuichi backing against the railing, hating that the singer’s narrowed blue eyes could still make his heart beat faster.

“It’s good to see you smile again, sweet Shu-chan,” Ryuichi said, placing a hand to his cheek. “I can’t wait to hear your pretty songs.”

Hiro stepped outside, wearing a somewhat spooked expression.

“Um, sorry,” Hiro said awkwardly, starting to make his retreat, when Shuichi called out to stop him.

“Hey, Hiro, are you ready to leave?” Shuichi asked. Hiro gave a hesitant nod, not entirely understanding the situation, but knowing his friend’s body language well enough.

“I’ve had enough dancing tonight. Let’s just go somewhere quiet,” Shuichi said after saying goodbye to Ryuichi. He gave Hiro a quick explanation of his behavior as soon as they reached the car.

“If that’s the way it is, then I should have walked up to see you throttling him instead of feeling like if I’d walked out a second later --” Hiro began, frowning.

“I know, I know,” Shuichi said, cutting him off. “Sakuma-san just has this way of getting to me, I guess.”

“I guess I can understand that,” Hiro said, pulling up to a small bar a few blocks away.

“Suguru’s going to kill me,” Shuichi moaned mournfully a few hours later to the tabletop he was now facing. “Well, okay, he won’t even say anything really, but he’ll make that face probably.”

“Huh? Why?” Hiro asked from across the table. He didn’t sound quite as drunk as Shuichi felt, but he was pretty sure they’d be taking a cab.

“Not ‘sposed to be drinking,” Shuichi mumbled.

“What does he think he is, your mother?” Hiro asked with a snort. “He used to nag about my smoking. Trust me, he’ll get over it.”

“I’m a problem drinker,” Shuichi said, lifting his head and rolling his eyes. “That’s what the counselor says. I have problems, I drink. So what?”

“Wait a minute, you’re in counseling?” Hiro asked. “Dude, maybe you really shouldn’t be drinking then. I didn’t know that.”

“Too late now,” Shuichi said with a giggle, leaning back in his chair dizzily, before sitting up and trying to focus on Hiro’s face. “Hey, Hiro?”

“Yeah?” Hiro asked, looking uncomfortable.

“Did you -- did you just use Suguru, because of how -- well, because of how you felt about --” Shuichi trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I just -- I’m drunk.” Hiro looked grim, his eyes focused on the floor.

“He never would accept that I liked him for himself,” Hiro said at last. “I -- I was -- I loved you, okay? For so long, and it was hard, but I really was moving on. I cared about him, I really did, but he always held back. He didn’t trust me, and after a while his insecurity just got to be too much for me to handle. I said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know I hurt him, but -- it was like he wouldn’t accept any answer but the one he’d been expecting to hear from the beginning. I was ready to give things with Ayaka another try, and to tell the truth, I was relieved.

I got tired of the guilt trips, you know? He never said anything about you, but it was always there, and I just knew we’d never get past it.”

“I’m sorry,” Shuichi whispered, feeling ashamed for ever allowing himself to believe the worst about his oldest friend. “That wasn’t my business to ask.” Hiro shook his head.

“No, I’m glad you asked,” Hiro said. “I’m glad you know my side now. Suguru’s really a terrific guy, and even though things turned out for the best as far as my own happiness, I wish I could have convinced him he was worth more. I hope the next guy does better than me.”

“Me, too,” Shuichi murmured, the thought of Suguru and this nameless next lover giving him an odd sensation of dread.

“What do you know about that Eto guy? They seem close,” Hiro said nonchalantly. “And Suguru does have a thing for tall guys with long hair, I think.” Shuichi frowned.

“I don’t like that guy,” Shuichi grumbled. “Do you really think he has a thing for that type?” Hiro shrugged.

“I’m just going by the evidence,” Hiro said with a grin.

A little after midnight, Shuichi slowly made his way up the stairs, breathing into his palm, and hoping Suguru was long asleep. Not that he wouldn’t have to be careful anyway, Shuichi thought, knowing what a light sleeper his friend was. Hiro walked up behind him.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t just have taken the cab home?” Hiro asked with a yawn.

“You’d have never made it,” Shuichi whispered. “Keep your voice down.”

He opened the door, noticing with relief that it was dark. Hiro made his way over to the couch and collapsed without a word, and Shuichi left him there, feeling too disoriented to search for blankets.

He mentally congratulated himself on his stealth as he reached his door without making a sound, before tripping over his own feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, with a loud curse.

“Shuichi? Are you okay?” Suguru called sleepily from his room.

“Uh-huh, just great,” Shuichi called out a little too cheerfully, wincing at the scrape on his elbow.

“Glad you’re back safe,” Suguru called. Shuichi felt sick from guilt and drink, as he hauled himself to his feet.

OoOoO

 

Shuichi cracked open one eye reluctantly, before taking a deep breath and sitting up. He felt groggy and nauseated, but he’d felt worse after a night of drinking, and forced himself out of bed, wondering if he could make it to the shower before being confronted by Suguru.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he was surprised to hear laughter, and followed the sound to the kitchen, where Suguru and Hiro were sitting at the table with a leisurely air, sipping tea and coffee.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Suguru was saying, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he regarded Hiro.

“Of course I do. You were wearing that shirt with the cow spots I was always teasing you about, remember?” Hiro said with a smile.

“I definitely remember that one,” Suguru said, blushing. “I recall how it got ruined, too, when we --” Suguru stopped, looking up.

“Good morning, Shuichi,” Hiro said with a laugh, giving Suguru a teasing look. “You’re just in time for the best part of the story.”

“I’m not telling him that!” Suguru cried, throwing a napkin at Hiro.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Shuichi mumbled, retracing his steps, and wondering why Hiro’s and Suguru’s friendly lack of tension and banter about their past irritated him so much. He wanted his two best friends to get along, didn’t he? He should be pleased that he wasn’t facing a very angry Suguru right now thanks to the distraction, he tried to reason with himself, but it did little to make him feel better.

He came back into the room after his shower to find that Suguru had laid out his usual hangover cures of aspirin, ice water, and a special tea he used to keep for his former lover, Ashia, on the kitchen table for him. He took his tea into the living room with him, where Hiro was flipping through the channels on the television.

“Where’s Suguru?” Shuichi asked, as Hiro stood.

“He said he wanted to open his office early today, because he has some business to see to,” Hiro said with a shrug. “I guess you dodged that bullet, huh? I’m going to take a shower now.”

OoOoO

 

Shuichi squirmed excitedly as he sat in his bus seat, grateful to at last be out of the stuffy studio and on his way to a gig. He’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed their trips on the road sometimes, missing Yuki aside.

The past two weeks had been hectic, finishing off the album and doing a few local shows, and Shuichi had loved every minute of performing again. With an album of solid songs that the audience seemed to be responding to with as much enthusiasm as his well-known hits, Shuichi felt ready to conquer the world. His first single had been sent out to the radio stations, and the reviews had been good so far.

He’d hardly seen Suguru during all the excitement, and he wondered how his friend felt about leaving GL for a few days to play live. Craning his neck to look for Suguru, he saw Hiro instead, who climbed onto the bus and casually settled in beside him.

“Can you believe we’re doing this again? Feels weird, huh?” Hiro asked.

“Yeah, especially since we’re part of two different acts,” Shuichi said with a laugh. “How exactly are you and Sanda planning to pull this off? You can’t play everything.”

“See that girl with him?” Hiro said, pointing out of the window, where Shuichi saw a small dark haired woman beside Sanda’s looming form. “That’s his girlfriend. She plays cello for the orchestra, so we have that covered anyway. The rest will be improvising. It won’t sound the same as the studio tracks, but we’ve jammed a bit with stripped down versions and it came out pretty good.”

“I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend,” Shuichi said. “Of course, this is the first time I’ve ever seem him in daylight, too, so I guess there are probably a lot of things I don’t know about him.”

“What, like that he isn’t a vampire?” Hiro asked with a laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” Shuichi said.

Eiji bounded onto the bus, looking disappointed that the seat beside Shuichi was already filled, and sat facing them.

“I heard our single on the radio on the way here,” Eiji said, leaning forward. “The deejay said he’d been getting requests for it like crazy.”

“Have you looked at the latest chart listing?” Shuichi asked.

“Got it right here,” Eiji said, waving a magazine over his head, before riffling through the pages. “Oh, wow! We’re twelve already! We’ll crack the ten by the end of the week, I’ll bet.”

“I’m back!” Shuichi called triumphantly, bouncing in his seat.

“Shit. You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eiji muttered, still looking through the magazine.

“What’s wrong?” Shuichi asked.

“Guess who else is playing at the festival?” Eiji asked. “Ganymede.”

“Do you think Suguru knows?” Shuichi asked, watching through the window as Suguru exit the building, with Eto close behind.

“I’m sure he does,” Hiro said. “Suguru’s not going to let something like that faze him, anyway.”

“I guess not,” Shuichi said, still looking out of the window.

“Earth to Shuichi,” Hiro said, waving a hand before his face a few moments later, making him realize that he hadn’t been listening as he watched Eto follow Suguru all the way to the bus door.

“Why is he coming?” Shuichi asked in a low voice as the two of them boarded. Hiro shrugged.

Suguru smiled at them and nodded as he passed by, he and Eto sitting near the back. Sanda and his girlfriend hurried onto the bus and sat directly across from them before the bus began to move.

“Oh, boy,” Eiji said. “I can already tell moving backwards like this is going to make me sick.”

“You can switch with me if you like,” Shuichi offered.

“Oh, thanks,” Eiji said, clearly wishing it had been Hiro who had offered instead. They switched places, Shuichi looking back and seeing Suguru and Eto facing opposite directions, Suguru facing the front with his legs propped on the empty seat before him, his laptop open.

Soon Hiro was quietly texting Ayaka on his cell phone, and Shuichi put in his earphones, watching the scenery go by.

“Touring with you guys is definitely more tame than what I’m used to,” Eiji said with a laugh, Shuichi pulling out one earpiece to hear him better. “By now Raiden would be drunk and yelling at our bass player about cheating at cards, and our drummer would be trying to put the moves on some groupie he’d brought along.”

“What would you be doing?” Hiro asked, flipping his phone closed.

“Hiding in the back in one of the beds, listening to my Bad Luck cds, probably,” Eiji said, coloring slightly as he looked at Shuichi. “I always kept a poster of you next to my bunk on our bus.”

“Um, I’m going to look in the cabinet back there and see if they remembered to stock it with Pocky,” Shuichi said with a nervous laugh, making for the aisle. Eiji was quiet and polite for the most part around Shuichi, but that was not to say his obsession with him didn’t still unnerve him a bit at times. 

He made his way to the tiny kitchenette nook in the back of the bus, giving a thumbs up as Hiro called behind him to bring back a soda. Suguru seemed to be entirely focused on whatever it was he was looking at on his laptop, and didn’t look up as he passed. Eto looked bored, and smiled at him as he came back by with the snacks he’d procured.

“I hope you don’t mind me tagging along,” Eto said. 

“Oh, no, of course not,” Shuichi said. Suguru looked up at last.

“I secured him a spot as one of the warm-up acts. Isn’t that great?” Suguru asked.

“Yeah, that’s terrific. What a lucky break for you, Eto-san,” Shuichi said. Eto shrugged.

“I don’t know if my music will appeal to the fan base you have, but it’s worth a shot,” Eto said.

“Yeah. Good luck with that,” Shuichi said, wondering if there was something passive-aggressively insulting about the comment, and deciding he was just reading too much into things.

“What kind of music does this Eto Izanagi guy play, anyway?” Shuichi asked irritably as he returned to his seat.

“Let’s see,” Eiji said, flipping back through the pages of his magazine. “Ah, here it is. ‘Exciting singer-songwriter Eto Izanagi, formerly of the critically acclaimed Spiralstream, has just signed on to the up and coming new record label GL Records, founded by producer Fujisaki Suguru. Soon to be debuting the highly anticipated first solo effort of notoriously troubled Bad Luck front man, Shindou Shuichi, Fujisaki’s bold move of signing indie and underground favorites like Eto and Sand has created a lot of industry buzz, showing that Fujisaki plans to go in a different direction than the pop producing juggernaut that started his fame, NG.

Eto’s solo work, unlike his soul-inspired front man days for Spiralstream, is folk rock known for it’s smart, insightful lyricism and spare beauty, proving a suitable antithesis to the pop styling of GL’s current much hyped meal ticket, and showing a promising and fresh direction in the mainstream music industry,’” Eiji read, looking pleased that he was the focus of Shuichi’s attention for a moment, before looking up to see the singers thoughtful frown.

“Much hyped meal ticket, am I?” Shuichi asked.

“Don’t take it so hard, Shuichi,” Hiro said reassuringly. “One article by a clearly snobby and biased music critic doesn’t mean anything. I mean, even Gravitation got a couple of lukewarm reviews from jackasses like that guy, and it was the top selling album of the year. I’ll bet that guy doesn’t even take Nittle Grasper seriously.”

“But what if it’s true?” Shuichi asked. “What if Suguru signed me because he thought I’d give him a legitimate hit to help him get attention for guys like Eto?”

“So, you’re conceding that guys like him are true artists, while you’re just some pop star?” Eiji asked, with uncharacteristic ferocity. “That’s the biggest crock of bull I’ve ever heard! I don’t just worship you because you’re sexy and your stuff is catchy and popular or something lame like that. I love your music because it speaks to me, and it’s beautiful and meaningful. And if you want more proof than that, I don’t even like Nittle Grasper, but I love you.” Shuichi and Hiro gawked at him.

“Wow, thanks Eiji,” Shuichi said, a bit overwhelmed. Sanda looked over at them, clearly having followed the discussion.

“Hey, kid, listen to that guy, not the critics,” Sanda said, giving him a wink. “I dig you, too, and I’m not easy to please. You’re one of the good ones.”

Shuichi smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to put on a great show.

OoOoO

Shuichi felt nervous and hyper, both confident and terrified as they reached the large outdoor amphitheater. There was a huge crowd, the crush of bodies extending for as far as the eye could see, and a great sense of excitement buzzing like a current of electricity through the air.

“I don’t even know what to do with myself I’m so stoked!” Shuichi said, practically bouncing around the trailer that served as their dressing room. Suguru sat calmly in the corner, observing his friend with amusement, while Eiji attempted to remain calm, his hand shaking as he applied a thick layer of eyeliner in the mirror.

There was a knock at the door, and Shuichi froze, looking at Suguru as he answered the door.

“Suguru-san,” Seguchi Tohma said warmly as he entered the trailer, looking immaculate as always in a grey suit over a lime green turtleneck that matched the band of his fedora hat. He offered a leather gloved hand to his protégé and clasped the one Suguru offered in kind in both of his before letting go.

“How are you Tohma-san? It’s nice to see you,” Suguru said.

“You as well,” Tohma said, his blue-green lighting upon Shuichi. “How is everything with you, Shindou-san? I’ve enjoyed listening to the promo release of your new album very much. It is sure to be a hit.”

“I -- I’m terrific, thank you, Seguchi-san. That means a lot to me, coming from you,” Shuichi said, appraising his former employer a bit warily.

“I always offer praise when it’s deserved,” Tohma said dismissively. “I look forward to your performance. Which brings me to something I’d like to ask you. It seems Ryuichi has come all the way out here for this festival, and he’d very much like to perform a number with you.”

Suguru gave him an uneasy look, as he tried to find his voice.

“Sakuma-san’s here?” Shuichi asked nervously. Tohma glanced at each of them, an expression of confusion passing quickly over his face.

“Yes,” Tohma said. “He rarely ever performs anymore, but he seems really excited at the idea of singing with you again.”

“Why doesn’t he just ask me himself, then?” Shuichi said, turning away and suddenly taking a great deal of interest in the rack of stage clothes in the corner.

“I’m sure there was no rudeness intended in relaying the message through me since I was intending to come this way to see Suguru-san,” Tohma said, his eyes flashing dangerously, though he gave a pleasant smile.

“I don’t’ think it’s a good idea,” Suguru said calmly. “After all, we wouldn’t want the hype of Sakuma-san returning to the stage to overshadow Shuichi.”

Shuichi glanced back at the spectacle of a silent battle of wills, the nearly identical smiles mirrored between the two cousins seeming to decrease the temperature in the room by ten degrees.

“I see,” Tohma said. “He will be disappointed, but I’m sure he’ll understand.” Tohma glided across the room to Shuichi, surprising him greatly as he laid a hand upon his shoulder. “I am happy to see you doing so well, Shindou-san.” He expressed similar sentiments to Suguru before excusing himself.

“Thanks, Suguru,” Shuichi said.

“Tohma was -- unusually gracious,” Suguru said with a furrowed brow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s grown to respect you.”

“Yeah, he’s probably just glad he finally got his precious Eiri-san away from me,” Shuichi said with a snort.

“Well, Sakuma-san’s got some nerve, anyway,” Suguru said disdainfully. Shuichi shrugged.

“Not the way his mind works,” Shuichi said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had no idea I was ever upset with him, much less that I had any reason to be.”

“Sounds like you’re just making excuses for him to me,” Suguru said, shaking his head and walking to the door.

“Where are you going?” Shuichi asked.

“It’s about time for Eto’s set. Do you want to come watch it with me?” Suguru asked. Shuichi felt slightly annoyed without being quite sure why.

“Yeah, I guess,” Shuichi reluctantly agreed. 

They wove around the almost carnival like camp that had been fenced off from the main grounds for the musicians and crew until they came to a tall scaffolding fixture set with a platform that overlooked the crowd and gave a view of the stage. Several roadies waved and greeted them on recognizing them, and made way for them to climb up to where some of the lighting and sound crew were set up for the show.

Eto Izanagi walked out, receiving a polite smattering of applause, to a stage simply set with just a microphone and an acoustic guitar. After a brief introduction, announcing his upcoming cd, he started his set.

“So where did you find this guy, anyway?” Shuichi asked, as Eto skillfully played. Suguru watched for a moment before replying.

“He used to be the singer and main songwriter of a group called Spiralstream that I listened to a lot when I was younger. They had a bit of a cult following, and a few minor hits in Europe, but that was about it. Tohma bought me one of their cds when he was trying to broaden my music tastes a bit,” Suguru said, never taking his eyes off the stage. “I was really excited when I found out he was still performing in bars, and I talked his manager into sending me a demo. He’s good, isn’t he?”

“He plays really well. Almost as good as Hiro,” Shuichi admitted. Suguru smiled.

“You think so? It was always his voice and his lyrics that I liked,” Suguru said.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” they heard a voice bellow behind them, turning to see Ashia Raiden appearing at the top of the iron ladder that led to the platform.

“Ashia-san,” Suguru said in a glacial tone, nodding tersely before turning his attention back to the stage. Raiden ignored the brush off, coming to stand beside them.

“Oh, I definitely remember that guy. Spiralstream, right?” Raiden asked, snorting with amusement. “Hey, Shindou, does he still get all hot and bothered listening to them? I remember him using that guy’s music to get in the mood like some chicks use Al Green.”

“Do you have an actual reason for being up here other that to be a creep?” Shuichi asked.

“Naturally. Trust me when I say that I wouldn’t be going out of my way to socialize with you two queens. It freaks me out wondering what you guys even do in bed. I didn‘t even think either of you had dicks,” Raiden said with a laugh, walking over to one of the sound crew. Shuichi was bristling, ready to go off, when Suguru shushed him, still focused on the stage.

“This is where it gets really good,” Suguru whispered, clutching the railing.

Eto put down his guitar, and the shadowy lights behind him lifted to reveal a full band.

“Eto arranged for some of his old band mates to drive up here for the show,” Suguru said. “Being a front man is what he does best.”

Shuichi watched as the band began a slow, soulful tune, Eto crooning and wailing in a way that had the crowd mesmerized. Soon, Shuichi found himself instead studying the open, peaceful look on his friend’s face, deciding it even more interesting than the stirring performance on stage. Suguru’s lips were slightly parted, and his dark eyes sparkled with joy. When the song finally ended, Shuichi looked out to see Eto was on his knees, and the crowd on their feet.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Suguru said with a grin. Shuichi shook his head in wonder, as if coming out a trance that had nothing to do with Eto.

“I’m just glad it’s Ganymede following him instead of us,” Shuichi murmured, wondering why he felt more angry at Eto right now than Ashia.

OoOoO

 

Shuichi was in heaven, feeling the rush of adrenaline in his veins floating him far above all the doubts and needless worrying he had done, as he found himself once more at home on the stage and doing the thing he lived for. It was just him and the fans again, and the world seemed once more balanced and possible to conquer, as he swayed to the beat and felt the music carry him away. 

He panted, wiping the sweat from his brow as the crowd gave him an enthusiastic ovation, taking Eiji’s and Suguru’s hands in his as they joined him at the front of the stage for the final bow. He and Suguru shared a smile as they rose, and Shuichi wanted the moment to last forever as he squeezed his friend’s hand and listened to the roar of the crowd.

Sand was the final act of the evening, their mellow sound a perfect close to the long day. Shuichi stood in the wings to watch, and turned to discuss their triumph with Suguru, the high of performing still going strong.

Suguru was standing in a nook behind some of the sound equipment, enthusiastically talking to Eto Izanagi, and seeming oblivious to anything else around them. Eiji bounded up to him with a tackling-tight hug, and Shuichi forced a laugh before turning his attention back to the stage. When he glanced back to where Suguru and Eto had been standing, they were already gone.

Shuichi returned to the stage for their closing number of the night, the heartbreaking sound of the cello nearly bringing tears to his eyes as he sang the sad, familiar words that he had rehearsed for days before recording them. In the smoky, violet light, that was far less harsh than the blinding strobes used for his own act, he looked out into the audience, nearly missing his cue to harmonize with Sanda for the final refrain as his eyes met those of Yuki Eiri, standing alone in the front of the crowd. Yuki smiled at him.


	4. Chapter 4

Shuichi wandered offstage, dizzy with mixed emotions, as he numbly regarded the applause left in his wake. Sitting on one of the amps, he looked back to see Hiro regarding him strangely for not waiting for the lights to dim, and when they did, he came to join him.

“Is something wrong?” Hiro asked. Shuichi shook his head.

“No, I just -- Maybe I’m dehydrated or something,” Shuichi suggested weakly.

“I’ll go get you something to drink then,” Hiro offered, though he looked at him doubtfully.

“No, that’s okay. I’m just going to sit here for a bit, okay?” Shuichi said.

“Okay, but you’d better show up at the after-party before they drive us to the hotel. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you, after all,” Hiro said sternly.

“What are you practicing on me for when Masahiko gets older?” Shuichi asked irritably.

“No, I’m just trying to keep the boss man off my ass,” Hiro said, sticking his tongue out at him playfully before walking away. 

Shuichi growled in frustration, kicking off of the amp and walking back onto the empty stage. The stage crew rushed to dismantle the sound equipment and carry off the instruments around him, paying him little mind as he perched on its edge, watching the crowd slowly shuffle off towards the exit gates bordering the massive field and leaving trails of trash behind them. He fell onto his back at looked up at the vast, dark emptiness of a sky made starless by nearby city lights.

“Hey, brat,” he heard a voice say gently, sitting up to find that Yuki had slipped around the crowd, and stood below him at the security barrier.

“Yuki,” Shuichi murmured, sliding off the stage, and landing on the ground before it with a thud before approaching the other side of the low metal railing. “What are you doing out here?” Yuki slowly took a drag from his cigarette, and looked away, exhaling.

“I wanted to see you one more time before I left. Therapist suggested it,” Yuki said with a shrug.

“Before you left? Where are you going, Yuki?” Shuichi asked.

“I’m going to travel a while, try to let things go, get some fresh perspective, you know, all that bullshit,” Yuki said with a smile. It was the sort of smile Shuichi had only glimpsed a few times in all the years he had known the writer, an unburdened one.

“You look good,” Shuichi observed.

“You, too,” Yuki said. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Shuichi nodded. There were so many things left unsaid, but they somehow seemed unnecessary, as the two men stared at one another for a long moment.

“I’d hug you goodbye, but I can’t get around this barrier,” Shuichi whispered, blinking back tears.

“Idiot,” Yuki murmured, reaching over the fence and touching Shuichi’s cheek tenderly, before turning to walk away.

He watched him go, pondering his bittersweet but seemingly content smile. He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat, but felt a sense of peace all the same.

That still didn’t mean a stiff drink wasn’t in order, he reasoned, as he pulled himself up and headed in the direction of the revelry that awaited him backstage. 

Suguru would flip, but where the hell was Suguru, anyway? he thought resentfully, as he reached the grounds between the fence and trailers, where dozens of people had already begun to celebrate. He wove around a group of people he didn’t recognize, and approached a full bar set up by the employees of the venue to cater to the performers and the guests and press who proudly wore their passes pinned to their shirts.

He had already begun to get a good buzz, the edges of his ragged emotions becoming welcomingly softer, when a guy he vaguely recognized but couldn’t place approached him.

“Why are you out here, man? All the action’s in there,” the man said, nodding towards a nearby trailer where loud music blared from inside. Shuichi nodded, following him into a room that was crammed beyond capacity, his eyes burning in all the smoke.

“Look guys, Shindou Shuichi’s come to party with us!” the guy called out, as many of the people in the room craned their heads to get a look at him and called out in greeting. 

Shuichi felt like a rag doll from the way he was shuffled around the room as the evening wore on, numerous people plying him with drinks in an effort to get close to him. He eventually found himself wedged in between several people on a small couch, the man next to him cutting lines of powder across the surface of a mirror on the low table before them, and urging him to try some.

“There you are! Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Suguru grumbled as he all but dove between the table and Shuichi, dragging the inebriated pop singer up by the arms, and ignoring the amused or angry reactions of those around them.

“I can’t believe you. I turn my back for -- what the hell were you doing in there with Sasaki Taro, of all people?” Suguru asked, as he exasperatedly pulled Shuichi along behind him outside, to the curious looks of bystanders.

“Saski who?” Shuichi slurred, stumbling along.

“Drummer for Ganymede,” Suguru explained impatiently as they neared their ride. “I don’t know who I want to throttle first, you, Hiro, or that bastard Raiden. I just know he had something to do with this.” Shuichi glared as Suguru attempted to stuff him onto the bus.

“Don’t need a freakin’ babysitter,” Shuichi muttered.

“Well apparently you do!” Suguru said shrilly. “And a better one than Hiro. He’s drunker than you are!”

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to ask Hiro if you hadn’t been busy running off with that Eto guy,” Shuichi protested, as Suguru finally managed to push him into a seat. Suguru stopped, giving him a strange look, as the bus driver called out ahead of them.

“Is that the last of us?” the man asked wearily, receiving a nod from Suguru before pulling the door shut and starting the engine.

Shuichi slept all the way to the hotel, Suguru shaking him awake and helping him to his room, where he immediately became ill. Suguru patiently and gently helped him get cleaned up and into bed, brushing the bangs from his forehead as he rose to go.

“Yuki was there,” Shuichi croaked weakly. Suguru frowned, sitting back on the edge of the bed as Shuichi recounted his brief encounter with the novelist.

“I’m sorry, Shuichi,” Suguru said softly. “I know how hard it is, when you love someone and they move on.”

“I think I‘m going to be okay with it, really,” Shuichi said. “As long as he’s doing well, that’s all that matters. If we’d kept trying to go on like we were, we would have ruined everything that made us being together good in the first place, you know? I think I’m ready to move on, too.”

“That’s good to hear,” Suguru said. “But if you’re handling this so well, then why this?”

“I -- I don’t know, exactly,” Shuichi said. “I just --”

“Hey,” Hiro said, sticking his head in the door, looking surprised. “Oh, I didn’t know you were in here, Suguru.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, Hiroshi. I was just leaving,” Suguru said, standing. His shoulders slumped slightly as he walked past Hiro and out of the door without another word.

“I’m glad Suguru’s already gotten the yelling over with. Sobered me up a little,” Hiro said with a grin, walking over to sit beside him.

“He looked kind of sad just now,” Shuichi said absently, still staring at the door.

“What? Oh, he’s probably just bummed that Eto-san skipped the party and headed back to Tokyo,” Hiro said with a shrug. “He told me about that asshole from Ganymede taking off with you. I should have been keeping an eye on you.” Shuichi snorted.

“I’m not a child,” Shuichi said, sitting up, his head spinning.

“So, stop acting like one,” Hiro said, collapsing in a heap across Shuichi’s legs. “Alright, I’m a hypocrite. A very drunk hypocrite.”

They both laughed, Shuichi helping Hiro pull himself up, eventually settling his head in Shuichi’s lap as Shuichi sat back against the headboard. Shuichi felt Hiro still shaking with laughter, before he looked up at him and sighed.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Hiro said drowsily. “Remind me to tell Ayaka I’m sorry.” Hiro began to snore. Shuichi held his nose irritably, forcing him back awake.

“Tell her you’re sorry for what?” Shuichi demanded as Hiro blinked stupidly and coughed.

“Oh, we had a big fight, I didn’t tell you? I haven’t really spoken to her in a week, except to check on Masa-chan,” Hiro said, yawning.

“What did you fight about?” Shuichi asked. Hiro frowned.

“I found out that she went to Suguru behind my back about this job. She really shouldn’t have done that,” Hiro said. “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

“She only did it because she loves you, you big dope,” Shuichi said.

“I know,” Hiro said. “And the only thing it hurt in the end was my pride, but -- she really should have talked to me first. She’s always doing crap like that, things she thinks are for my own good, but damn it, sometimes she just makes things harder on me without even realizing it. There are just some things she doesn’t understand.”

“Like why asking Suguru for a favor might be a little presumptuous?” Shuichi asked, frowning.

“Yeah, things like that,” Hiro said with a sigh.

Hiro was silent for a long while after that, and Shuichi realized he had fallen back asleep. Rolling him gently from his lap, he slid down the bed and fell into his own troubled slumber.

OoOoO

 

“Rise and shine, Shuichi,” Suguru announced cheerfully as he walked into the hotel room, carrying a tray with a pot of coffee. “It’s time to fully experience your well earned hangover!”

Shuichi groggily opened his eyes, Hiro’s arms wrapped about him so tightly he couldn‘t sit up. The smile dropped from Suguru’s face as he regarded the two of them.

“Yeah, well, there’s enough for both of you,” Suguru said, his voice shaking slightly. “ I’ll just leave it here on the table. The bus should be leaving in an hour.”

Shuichi muddily tried to come to his senses as Suguru fled from the room, his squirming rousing Hiro.

“Mmm, let’s just sleep in today, baby,” Hiro murmured, pulling Shuichi tighter to him and nuzzling his neck.

“Um, Hiro?” Shuichi laughed nervously, fully awake now. “It’s time to get going, okay?” Hiro froze, cracking open one blood-shot eye, before pulling away.

“Sorry,” Hiro muttered, sitting up and facing away from him. “Was Suguru just in here? I thought I heard him.”

“Shit, I think he was,” Shuichi said, rubbing his throbbing forehead. “This probably didn’t look too good.”

They drank the coffee and ice water Suguru had brought in silence, each suffering their miserable condition, before reluctantly making their way outside to the tour bus.

OoOoO

 

An uneasy sort of calm had seemed to come over the apartment Shuichi shared with Suguru in the week following the festival. With the album completed, and the next promotional gigs still a week away, Shuichi found himself with free time on his hands that he was unsure how to fill.

He idly followed the charts, watching as his first single climbed higher, but felt strangely detached from the pleasure this would usually bring him. Suguru was home rarely, more or less only coming home to sleep, and the wedge that Shuichi had sensed between them seemed to be growing gradually, as the dinners he had ready grew cold, or even worse, were shared with Eto, who had come to be a frequent guest. It was almost as if Suguru were purposely avoiding being alone with him, and it hurt and confused him.

Finally alone together one evening, after Eto had called to say he wouldn’t be joining them, Suguru observed Shuichi’s listlessness with a sigh.

“Why don’t you see if Hiro and Sanda need any help in the studio?” Suguru suggested. “Or have things grown awkward between you?”

Shuichi studied Suguru’s cold expression as he washed the dishes following a dinner that had had little conversation.

“Is that what’s been up with you all this time?” Shuichi asked. “Nothing even happened! We were talking, and we were both drunk, so we fell asleep.” Suguru didn’t look at him.

“Why would I care about that?” Suguru asked in a light tone that sounded forced. “The two of you have always been close. Closer than I’ve been to either of you, so it’s none of my business.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s obvious you don’t care,“ Shuichi snapped sarcastically. “Not that I understand. Hiro’s married, so even if there had been anything going on -- which there wasn’t -- why are you still worried about me, of all people?” 

Shuichi stood, crossing to stand behind Suguru, who still wouldn’t face him, trying to maintain a semblance of calm as he methodically washed the plates.

“And besides, I thought you were all about that Eto guy these days,” Shuichi spat bitterly. Suguru dropped the plate he was holding, taking a deep breath.

“I -- I’m not jealous of you anymore, okay?” Suguru whispered. “Ever since Hiro’s come back, I’ve just -- remember when he quit the band, back when our record sales starting doing well because of you and Yuki?”

“Well, yeah, that was a long time before you two got together though, wasn’t it?” Shuichi asked blankly. Suguru shook his head in frustration.

“Would you just listen?” Suguru asked. “Back then you told me that I would never be Hiro, and -- and I guess I still feel like I don’t measure up. I thought maybe after you’d had some time to get over Yuki, that -- but it’s always Hiroshi, isn’t it? He’s the reason you quit playing music in the first place after all.” Suguru pushed past him, sitting at the kitchen table. Shuichi sat beside him, feeling dazed.

“So, what you’re saying is --” Shuichi started, still trying to put things together.

“I’m jealous of Hiro, not you, which would be obvious to anyone else with any skills of observation,” Suguru rambled in one long breath, his voice muffled from where he’d buried his face in his arms on the table.

“Why?” Shuichi asked. 

Suguru’s shoulders shook, and Shuichi reached over to comfort him, when he realized Suguru was laughing hysterically. Suguru calmed, taking a shaky breath, before finally taking his head from his arms, and looking at Shuichi shyly.

“This is why,” Suguru whispered, leaning forward and capturing Shuichi’s lips with his own, before cautiously pulling back to study his expression of utter shock.

“Oh,” Shuichi said, his heart pounding as he stared at the face of his closest friend, who looked terrified. Suguru‘s face darkened, and he stood quickly, leaving the room before Shuichi could coherently respond.

A lot of things suddenly made more sense to Shuichi as he sat there, blinking at the space Suguru had just occupied. He felt an overpowering surge of emotion as he thought back on what Fujisaki Suguru’s presence had meant to him since that day the young producer had offered him an alternative to the aimless life he’d felt trapped in, and he realized that he couldn’t imagine being without him now. He didn’t want to, for that matter.

All that time that he had been feeling so abandoned whenever Suguru wasn’t near, and the panic and resentment he’d felt over the thought that he had lost his attention to Eto, suddenly made it all too clear that Suguru meant far more to him than he’d realized. He cared for him in a way that he hadn’t even considered, convinced that Suguru still carried a torch for Hiro, and he wondered now if he‘d simply been afraid to. Suguru was his closest friend, and he’d never want to lose that, after all.

He found Suguru sitting on the couch, wringing his hands, and saw tears glistening in his downcast eyes. Shuichi knelt before him, forcing himself into Suguru’s line of sight, and taking one of his shaking hands in his own.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Suguru murmured. “I didn’t mean to fall for you, I just -- You’re the first person I’ve ever felt really cared about me for myself, you know? Is it too soon? Please tell me I haven‘t screwed things up.”

Feeling too overwhelmed to put what he was feeling into words, as he looked upon Suguru’s face, for the first time allowing himself to freely feel what he’d denied himself, Shuichi answered by kissing him. Suguru threaded his fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. Shuichi only gave up his lips reluctantly, as Suguru pulled back at last.

“Oh, thank God,” Suguru whispered, smiling, winding his arms around him and embracing him tightly. “I thought for a moment I’d made a huge mistake. You’d been acting a bit strangely lately, and I’d hoped maybe you were feeling something too, but I wasn’t sure.”

“I was jealous, too,” Shuichi said, as Suguru released him. “I guess I just didn’t realize why, but I was.”

“Really?” Suguru asked with a smile. Shuichi nodded and stood, throwing a knee on either side of Suguru’s hips and sliding onto his lap.

“Any time Hiro brought up anything it just about made me sick,” Shuichi said, winding his arms around Suguru’s neck. “I thought I was just mad because he’d treated you badly. And don’t even get me started on Eto.” Shuichi laughed. 

“No worries there. He’s straight,” Suguru said with a grin. “And more importantly, he isn’t you.” Suguru pressed his lips to his jaw line, kissing down his neck and running his fingers slowly beneath the hem of Shuichi’s tee shirt. Shuichi gave a deep moan, biting his lip.

“So you like me better, even though I’m not a serious artist like the great Izanagi Eto?” Shuichi asked playfully, his toes curling as Suguru gave him a firm nip on the part of his shoulder exposed by his collar.

“What are you talking about?” Suguru asked, the black eyed glaze of lust fading slightly as he pulled back to look at him.

“Um, well,” Shuichi started, mad at himself for killing the mood with his petty insecurities. “There was this article I read about how I was essentially GL’s cash cow to fund the projects you were really interested in.”

“Shuichi, you’ve not only made your own hit, you’ve made two for other people. You’re one of the most versatile and talented artists I’ve ever known. You’re worth more than the rest of mine and NG’s roster combined. You can do anything,” Suguru said, shaking his head and laughing. “Am I going to have to keep stoking your ego like this the whole time we’re together?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Shuichi said coyly, giving him a sweet smile.

“Good. Because I’m fully prepared to do that,” Suguru said, placing a hand behind his head and pulling him into a tender kiss.

Shuichi decided he could definitely get used to this.

“I have one condition, though,” Shuichi said, pulling away and placing a finger over Suguru’s lips, Suguru looking at him curiously. “You have to let me tell you how great you are, too, sometimes, and you have to believe it when I tell you, okay? Think you can handle that?”

Suguru nodded, his eyes softening.

“I’m glad we understand each other then,” Shuichi said, replacing his finger with his lips briefly, before resting his forehead on Suguru‘s. “Because I want to tell you how special you’ve been to me. No one else could have helped me the way you have, and I couldn’t do it without you.”

“Thank you,” Suguru whispered, then smiled. “Tell me more.”

Shuichi cried out with laughter as Suguru pushed him back onto the couch, pinning his arms above his head. 

“Well, you’re the best producer I’ve ever worked with, you’re scarier than Tohma when you want to be, and you’re a million times nicer. You’re smart and funny,” Shuichi paused, blushing, “and I want you.” Shuichi stopped, staring up at Suguru’s face.

Shuichi freed his arms from Suguru’s slackened grip, and pulled him down by his shirt front to kiss him again.

OoOoO

 

Shuichi squeezed Suguru’s hand excitedly under the table as they waited for the awards ceremony to begin

“Masa-chan!” Hiro called futilely, as the lively toddler once more escaped his grasp, trying to make his way down the aisle. Ayaka laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Nagasaki Masahiko!” Ayaka called sternly, making the child stop in his tracks and return to his seat without a moment’s fuss.

“I don’t get it. I’m much scarier than you,” Hiro said, shaking his head.

“Yes, but she has more sense. I think I’d rather listen to her, too,” Suguru said with a laugh, earning a smile from Ayaka. 

“Champagne?“ a server asked, bringing a complimentary tray of elegant, long stemmed flutes to their table.

“None for me. I never touch the stuff,” Shuichi said with a grin.

“I’m sure we’ll make up for you,” Sanda’s date said with a laugh, as they took their glasses.

“Can you believe I’m up for producer?” Eiji asked, beaming. “I mean, sure, it’s co-producer with Fujisaki-san, but still. Ganymede didn’t get nominated for anything!”

“Well their last album lacked sorely without you,” Eto said. “I’ve been thinking about focusing on being a front man and getting a band together after I’m finished with this album. Think you might be interested?”

“But I’ve been playing for Shuichi,” Eiji said uncertainly, looking at Shuichi and Suguru.

“Do you want to play with him instead?” Shuichi asked in surprise.

“Well, no offense, but yeah, I think it would be kind of cool to be in a band again instead of just doing studio work,” Eiji said.

“Hey that’s fine,” Shuichi said casually. “I could always get Hiro to fill in for you. You know, if I can‘t find anyone else.” Shuichi and Hiro shared a meaningful look, Hiro nodding. Ayaka smiled, tears in her eyes, as she reached across the table to give Shuichi a pat on the hand.

“Welcome back to the band,” Shuichi said softly, while Eiji and Eto enthusiastically discussed ideas.

“You don’t mind, do you, Sanda-san?” Suguru asked. Sanda grinned and shook his head.

“Hey, man, follow your bliss,” Sanda said to Hiro.

“Want to go say hi to Tohma?” Suguru asked mischievously, nodding over towards the somewhat more somber NG table, where Tohma and Mika chatted gaily with the girls from Sister Moon while the members of Ganymede sat in uncomfortable silence. Shuichi nodded absently, caught off guard at the suggestion.

They approached the table and greeted the Seguchis, Aika and Kimi jumping up from their seats to give each of them hugs. Shuichi noted that Tohma gave Ashia Raiden a steely glance of warning as the vocalist opened his mouth and shut it again.

“So, how’s Yuki-san?” Suguru asked. Shuichi looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, like you didn’t want to ask,” Suguru muttered under his breath, nudging him in the ribs.

“He’s decided to stay in Paris,” Tohma said with a look that barely hid his disapproval. Mika looked more enthused.

“He has this really nice studio apartment on a quiet street,” Mika said. “I’ve never seen him happier. Can you believe he even invited us to come back?”

“That is something,” Shuichi said, shaking his head. “I’m really glad to hear he’s doing well.”

“You should go visit him sometime. I’m sure he’d like to see you,” Tohma said, much to Shuichi‘s bewilderment. 

“Has he given up writing?” Shuichi asked awkwardly, trying to avoid the subject.

“He’s taken up painting, actually. I was pretty baffled, but he seems to enjoy it,” Mika said with a shrug.

“We can go out there sometime, if you like,” Suguru said, after they’d said goodbye and walked back towards their table. Shuichi shook his head.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” Shuichi said, laughing. “He once told me that the only reason he had become a writer was to keep a promise to someone. It sounds like he’s doing things because he wants to now.” Suguru looked relieved.

“I think Tohma was kind of hoping you’d bring him back,” Suguru said.

“Well, he wanted us to break up, so I guess he should have been more careful what he wished for, huh?” Shuichi said with a grin.

“He just needs to accept that he can’t control everything like he thinks he can,” Suguru said.

The ceremony ended, Suguru and Shuichi each holding their own trophies proudly in the green room, and answering questions from the press, who even convinced them to share a brief kiss for the cameras. The two had decided to be open with the public about their relationship from the beginning and avoid the inevitable questions. The press had been less intrusive once their curiosity had been satisfied, it seemed, the idea of the two being in relationships with other men having lost its novelty over the years.

They met up with the others at the front entrance, waiting for the limo to take them to the after party, Eiji waving his award over his head with triumph, and Sanda standing boredly near the doors with his best new artist trophy peeking out of the pocket of his tux. Suguru let Masahiko play with one of the two statuettes he’d won, while they waited.

“So, we’re kicking off the tour the day after tomorrow,” Shuichi said, scuffing his shoe on the marble floor.

“Are you excited?” Suguru asked.

“Well, yeah, of course, but you know --” Shuichi said with a shrug. “I’m going to miss lounging around our apartment for a while.” Suguru nodded.

“Not much privacy on the road,” Suguru agreed with a sigh.

“Skip the after party?” Shuichi suggested with a wink.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Suguru said.

They said their goodbyes, ignoring the knowing smiles of their friends as they hailed a taxi.

“Remember that night we went clubbing, and took a cab home like this?” Suguru said, Shuichi snuggling against him and resting his head on his shoulder as they settled in for the ride.

“You were so drunk,” Shuichi said with a laugh. Suguru sniffed in mock offense.

“I was just tipsy,” Suguru lied. “Anyway, I was just remembering you singing that song you wrote for me.”

“Does that mean you want me to serenade you?” Shuichi asked teasingly, nuzzling his neck. Suguru wedged his arm around him, pulling him closer.

“No, silly. I was just remembering how much I wanted to kiss you,” Suguru whispered. Shuichi looked up at him with awe.

“You’ve wanted me for that long?” Shuichi asked. Suguru nodded sheepishly.

“I had no idea,” Shuichi said.

“No shocker, there,” Suguru said, kissing him on the nose, and laughing as Shuichi pretended to pout.

As they neared their apartment, Shuichi sighed in contentment, finding himself thinking, strangely enough, about an old Nittle Grasper song. It was a hidden track at the end of Nittle Grasper’s last cd before they made their big comeback album, and it played two whole minutes after the last note faded. You’d never even know it was there except by accident, Shuichi thought to himself, and it was different than any other Nittle Grasper song, not at all what you would expect. It was a simple, pretty love song sung and written by Noriko, the often overlooked third member of the band, and it had gradually become one of his favorites, even if was different than what he thought he was listening for. It often made Shuichi wish that she had tried going solo, too.

As he hummed the tune to himself, the open, tender gaze of his new lover fixed upon him in affection and curiosity, he understood why that particular song had gotten stuck in his head.

“Decide to serenade me after all?” Suguru asked.

Shuichi just smiled and nodded.


End file.
